


Bowling and Opera and Karaoke, Oh My!

by Severina



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Community: 25fluffyfics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-07-01
Updated: 2007-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-10 12:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friendships form when least expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bowling and Opera and Karaoke, Oh My!

**Author's Note:**

> Post Season Five  
> Written for LJ's 25FluffyFics community, and for tamalinn, who wanted unrequited Ted/Justin.  
> Prompt 02: Hobbies

Justin's not sure how it happened.

One moment he was shifting from foot to foot in the foyer, anxious to make an escape from Chez Novotny-Horvath and half-listening to Debbie berate Brian--

_"And you!" Debbie scolded, pointing a red-taloned finger at Brian's chest. "It wouldn't hurt you to be nicer to those boys!"_

"Deb," Brian drawled, "since when has 'nice' been in my vocabulary?"

"Especially Ted," Debbie continued, her voice softening. "You know how heartbroken he's been since Blake left. Poor Teddy."

"Poor, my ass," Brian countered. "Did you see the size of his quarterly bonus?"

A blind man could see the thwack to Brian's head coming from a mile away. Brian took it in stride. Justin tried to remember that a smack from Debbie Novotny meant love. Somehow.

\-- and the next thing he knew, they'd both been roped into joining the revamped, revised, new and improved Liberty Balls.

"I don't even like bowling," he muttered into the sweat-soaked sheets an hour later.

"You like balls."

"Ball," Justin snipped out.

Brian mimed wincing in pain before rolling easily on top of him. Justin opened his mouth to complain, but then Brian's fingers feathered slowly down his body and really, they'd only fucked twice. He _supposed_ he could handle one more.

"I'll help you," Brian said.

Justin snorted. "Yeah. Right."

Brian's hand dipped lower, bypassing his dick (to Justin's chagrin) and skimming over the inside of his thigh--

"Just remember to test each ball," Brian said lightly, "for the proper weight." He rolled Justin's balls deftly in his palm, and Justin couldn't help it -- his legs slide open just a little wider.

"And when you're sure you've got the right ball," Brian said, shifting minutely, breath warm and palm warm and Justin breathed in deeply and waited, waited--

"Just insert your finger in the hole--"

Justin's teeth caught on his lower lip. He didn't think about bowling much after that.

* * *

The video conference with his agent and the gallery owner ran late, so Justin was breathless and irritable when he arrived at the bowling alley. The fact that he was arriving at a bowling alley and not, say, a five star sushi restaurant only added to his annoyance. He slid a five toward the slack-jawed teen behind the counter, waited for him to put down his comic -- not Rage, unfortunately -- and shuddered when he collected his purple and green bowling shoes.

"Is there a law that I'm not aware of that says the colour combination used on bowling shoes must be so abhorrent as to actually trigger vomiting and acute stomach pain?"

"At least they're not as repulsive as golf pants," the clerk replied.

Justin sighed and tossed an extra five in the tip jar. He only hoped the kid would use it to buy some zit cream.

When he got to their reserved lanes, he wondered why he'd bothered rushing. The only person who had arrived was Ted, who looked up anxiously at the sound of his approach.

"Where's Brian?"

Justin pressed his lips together. "Hello Ted, nice to see you too. My day was complete and utter shit, thank you for asking."

"Sorry." Ted inclined his head. "Hi Justin."

"Hey."

"Now can I ask where Brian is?"

Justin tossed his puke-inducing shoes onto the bench. "He's closing a deal at Sakkio, where I really hope he chokes on his unagi." He flopped down. "What about everyone else?"

"Well, let's see," Ted said, counting off on his fingers. "Emmett had to deal with a last minute hyacinth crisis; Ben and Michael had to bail Hunter out of jail, which is of course why Hunter isn't here; Horvath's investigating a homicide at the Eat'n Park; and Debbie had to make four dozen fettuccine alfredo's for tomorrow's Pass-Da-Pride dinner at the center." Ted steepled his fingers. "Any questions?"

"I don't want to know why Hunter's in jail, do I?"

"No," Ted said, "you really don't."

Ted looked down the empty lane.

Justin stared at the tile.

Ted coughed.

"Soooo," Justin said into the silence, "I guess there's no point in staying."

"I guess not," Ted agreed.

Justin bent to gather up his shoes.

"Unless," Ted said, "we stay and get in some practice together." When Justin looked up, he shrugged. "I mean, since we're here already. And God knows I can use all the practice I can get."

Justin thought back to that morning, when he'd demonstrated his delivery stance to Brian--

_"Well?" Justin said. He was still dripping wet from their morning shower, and semi-groggy despite the handjob, but he thought that his posture and follow-through looked fairly professional, even if he was using a rolled-up face cloth as a ball. _

Brian cupped his chin in his hand. "Very graceful," he said. "Like Baryshnikov."

Justin beamed.

"On crack."

\-- and narrowed his eyes. "Maybe you're right, Ted."

"Okay then!" Ted smiled and clapped his hands together. "Let's get to it!"

Three hours later, Justin had almost forgotten that the gallery owner had halved his approved spaces in the show from six to three. But his cheeks did ache from smiling so much.

He and Ted really were the worst bowlers ever.

* * *

"The opera?" Justin squeaked into the phone.

"I know it's short notice," Ted began, "and I wasn't going to attend any of this season's events because… well, frankly, opera reminds me of Blake. But then I thought, why should I punish _myself_ because of a relationship that was clearly doomed to failure? Like we say in group, I need to give myself permission to get on with my life. And what better person to introduce to my one great passion that you?"

"Me?"

"Sure. We had such a great time last week with the bowling and everything--"

Justin gulped. "It's just… I'm not really an opera buff."

"That's what everyone says their first time," Ted laughed. "Don't worry, you'll love it."

"I'd really like to, Ted," Justin tried, "but I don't have a tux."

"You can use Blake's. He sure won't be needing it anymore."

Justin covered the mouthpiece. Sure, he caught the despondent note in Ted's voice at the mention of Blake's name, but it was _opera_. This was too much to ask of any man.

"Help me," he mouthed, waving frantically at Brian. Unfortunately Brian was too busy laughing hysterically to notice.

"Justin?"

Justin closed his eyes. "All right," he said. It was, what? Three hours of his life. It couldn't be that bad. "I'd love to."

"Great! Come over at six so you can change. Just think -- after tonight, you will no longer be an Opera Virgin."

"Great," Justin gritted out.

* * *

"No," Brian said.

"Did I not sit through an entire jazz recital at the Frick Centre with you just last week?"

"You did," Brian agreed.

"Do I find jazz entertaining in any way, shape or form?"

"You do not."

"Then why won't you attend something as simple as a summer karaoke party with me?"

Brian laid his hands on Justin's shoulders. "Because," he said, "you are a kind, giving partner who takes pleasure in satisfying his boyfriend's wishes, even when they do not blend with his own. I, on the other hand, am an inconsiderate shit who cares only about his own selfish desires." Brian tapped Justin lightly on the cheek before turning back to his perusal of the clothes closet.

Justin watched him for a moment before sliding open his cell phone.

"Hey Ted, what are you doing tonight?"

* * *

Ted and Justin stood near the buffet table, watching Brian play Cowboy with Gus.

"It was nice of Michael and Ben to let the girls use their house for Gus's party while your place is being renovated."

"It was," Justin said.

Ted rocked on his feet. Justin smiled at Gus's giggles.

"Lindsay's looking good," Ted put in. "I think she did something with her hair…"

Justin hadn't really thought about it, but he nodded anyway.

Ted reached for a canapé. "So. Justin."

Justin reluctantly pulled his eyes away from Brian, who was currently wearing an ill-fitting cowboy hat… and spurs. Justin was ever thankful for the timing of Britin's renovations, which meant that he and Brian were staying at the loft and there was, alas, just no room for visitors. The girls and the kids were staying at a hotel, and that meant that he would easily be able to implement his plans for playtime with Brian tonight. Spurs. Justin was practically salivating.

"Hmmm?" he finally said.

Ted cleared his throat. "If you and Brian were to break up again--"

Justin turned his attention back to his partner. "We won't."

"Oh, I know you won't," Ted said quickly. "I don't mean to imply that you would ever leave him _again_… um, I mean… not that the previous times weren't entirely justified and completely--"

"Ted," Justin said lightly. "Breathe."

"Right," Ted said. He took a deep breath, then another. "All I'm saying is… if you were to break up with Brian, which you totally won't because if there were ever two people who were fated to be together, it's you two… but if you did…"

Justin raised an eyebrow enquiringly.

"Would I ever have a shot?" Ted blurted out.

Justin grinned. "You having a shot would definitely not be outside the realm of possibility."

He left Ted beaming and obviously on the road to 'getting on with his life', and went to join Brian and his son. He didn't care how un-PC it was or how much Melanie protested -- he was going to put on the feathered headdress that came with that kit and be an Indian, and together with Gus, they were going to send that cowboy packing with his tail between his legs. At least until cake.


End file.
